


pretty boy

by monaslefteyebrow



Series: pretty boy [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Drag Queens, Drag Queens, M/M, RuPaul's Drag Race References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-10-24 21:03:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17711549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monaslefteyebrow/pseuds/monaslefteyebrow
Summary: “I’m good on the narrative they’re editing so far, but if I get desperate for some screen time I’ll let you know.”A Check Please! Drag Race AU.





	1. omgtuckplease

“Blanche, five minutes.”

Eric managed to tear his eyes away from the mirror in order to shoot a nervous smile to the PA who had just gave stuck her head in the room to give him his time call.

“Thank you, five.”

Instead of disappearing, she gave him a once over.

“Nerves?”

Bitty hesitated. They had already filmed his pre-entrance thoughts where he had done his best to exude delusional levels of confidence. If there was one thing he had learned from the pageant circuit, it was that half of a win was your mentality going into the competition. After a glance over her shoulder to make sure that there weren’t any cameras lurking to catch him having second thoughts, Bitty felt comfortable replying with honesty.

“Little bit.”

Someone yelled down the hall and the PA tossed an, “On it!” over her shoulder before smiling at Bitty. “If it helps, the contestant in the dressing room next to yours threw up before heading out.”

Bitty cringed, the thought of having to reapply his makeup making him shudder.

“Where are you, on a scale from nervous to vomit?” 

“Feeling like I need to pee, but not actually needing to.”

“Then you’re nailing it already. I’m Larissa, holler if you need anything.” 

With that parting greeting she shut the door, leaving Bitty alone.

If he had a few extra minutes, he might as well give his hair an extra tease. Moomaw would kill him if he was on TV looking deflated.

* * *

“–and don’t forget, we have high expectations this season so we won’t be accepting any less than your absolute best. Get to work, and don’t fuck it up.” 

Bitty joined in on the cast’s chorus of, “Thank you, Ru” before heading back to his work station.

A cameraman was at his heel, but he did his best to ignore him, instead focusing on the task at hand: readying his act for the talent show.

Typically he stuck with what he knew when it came to the talent portion of pageants. It might not hurt to do the same here, at the very least he would know he would be safe. At the same time, he knew he had a reputation as something of a southern belle. Being known as sweet, polished, and easy to work with was what helped get him here, but at the same time, Ru’s words were ringing in his ears. Safe would help him get to the next episode, but a well-received risk would help him make a strong first impression on the judges and his competition.

Eric’s thoughts were interrupted by a commotion a few workstations over. The cameras had noticed too and the lingering cameraman nodded his head towards the conflict. Right. Part of Bitty’s role here was to make good TV.

Eric wandered over, but only one person noticed. Her name was Sabrina if Eric remembered correctly. A West Coaster and, surprisingly, sporting a full set of braces. She seemed eager to have someone else at her side in whatever argument was occurring.

“Sabrina Splits,” she said with an anxious smile, by way of introduction.

“Blanche Deverheaux,” Eric replied, “What’s going on?”

“They’re both want to do the same talent.” Sabrina gestured at the two queens arguing in front of them.

Eric grimaced, “I mean, we all knew it would probably happen to someone. Isn’t it general enough to work?”

“It’s burlesque, so maybe? I told them it would be more fun if they both put their own spin on it! But then Emily said hers would be better anyway, then Juana disagreed and now they’re…..”

Bitty looked at the arguing pair, trying to remember what they had worn yesterday when they filmed workroom entrances. They didn’t look similar, Emily Turabian had brown skin and thick brown hair while Juana Bangor was pale and freckled. He didn’t recall them having similar styles of drag either. It could work. Regardless, someone needed to intervene before the queens did something they would regret having broadcasted on national television. “Couldn’t you just–”

“Stop it.”

Eric froze. Behind him was Rita Book. That wasn’t a name he, or anyone else here, was about to forget. Honestly, Eric had been surprised to see Rita here. She had faded into relative obscurity after her overdose, but if she was getting back into drag it wasn’t like she needed to suffer the trials of reality TV or win large sums of prize money to garner attention and be successful. Those were the perks of having celebrity parents, Eric imagined.  Still, Eric couldn’t help but quietly admire Rita. She was gorgeous in and out of drag. At the moment, however, her irritated glare made it difficult to appreciate her good looks. Bitty was happy not to be on the receiving end of her attention. 

“It’s unprofessional. Either both do the same thing well, or if it’s so much of an issue, do something different. We’re all trying to get to work, and it’s impossible if you’re throwing a tantrum in the corner.”

Juana wasn’t so easily persuaded, “I _told_ Emily Turabian that I have been practicing this act for months and if she thinks that–”

“Are they the same?” 

“Obviously not, I start out in a rain bib–”

“A what?”

Juana’s ears began to turn as red as her hair, “A rain bib. Like for lobster fishing. It’s comedic.”

The group was momentarily speechless. Eric spoke up in an attempt to recover from the awkward silence, “I’m sure we’ve all just got the jitters and it’s getting the best of us.”

Rita’s attention, unfortunately, turned to Eric. “Some of us don’t have to be nervous because we came prepared.”

Eric was stunned into silence, unable to reply with a witty comeback. 

“Are you in a rain bib too?” Rita asked Emily. The concept was so ludicrous, Eric was surprised she managed to say it with a straight face.

Emily snorted, expression neutral, “No. Mine’s actually cool.”

Juana made a noise of indignation, but Rita cut in.

“Great. They’re different. Now get to work.”

“Well then,” Bitty muttered under his breath, “Class dismissed.”

Rita’s comments were unfair, and frankly, unwarranted. Bitty had spent the past few years refining his drag, and he was here because all it really took was one person (aka a casting agent) in a room of ninety-nine naysayers who believed in him (or thought it would be entertaining for America to watch him crash and burn, but semantics). This was his chance to take his career to the next level, and he would be damned if a queen who practically had her career handed to her was going to change that. It looked like he would be taking a risk after all.

* * *

 The exhaustion in the room was palpable as they all trudged in from the stage. It was hard to believe they would be shooting another episode later in the week. For Bitty, there was some comfort in realizing he wasn’t the only one who felt like he had gotten ahead of himself; they were all worn thin as the excitement of television wore off and the reality of competition sunk in. The sound in the workroom was muted, crew members chatting idly as they got their equipment together, the occasional relieved sigh from cast members as corsets and duck tape were removed. Anita Blunt was the only one who seemed to still have energy, arms lovingly draped around Rita’s neck as she tried to slide off her tights. Anita had been egging Rita on for the past ten minutes. “There’s always two cast members who end up fucking behind the scenes. This is our chance, Jackie. Shit. Jack. Jackie Kennedy. That was a missed opportunity.”

Jack seemed unimpressed, “I'm feeling pretty comfortable with my choices, thanks.”

“Of course you do. Rita Book. Genius. Inspired. A perfect blend of humor and instilling the importance of education in young drag fans.” 

“I do what I do to make a difference. The tips are just a side perk,” Jack replied dryly. 

“Brains and generous of spirit. You’re driving me wild. So what do you say?” Shitty cut in with a lecherous eyebrow waggle, “Interested in adding some heat to this season?”

“I’m good on the narrative they’re editing so far, but if I get desperate for some screen time I’ll let you know.”

Bitty snorted at the joke, catching Rita’s eye. For a moment, Bitty could have sworn there was a smile tugging at the corner of Rita’s mouth. Before Eric could be sure, it was gone, replaced by the cold stare he had been on the receiving end of for most of filming thus far.

So. He hadn’t made a friend just yet. He didn’t have a win under his belt, but he hadn’t gone home first and managed to _almost_ win the maxi challenge, which was a win in its own way.

They had ended up with him and Kitty Girl Purrson in the top two. Bitty with a cheeky pie-making performance to _Cherry Bomb_ and Kitty Girl with a frankly electric lipsync to a Britney Spears medley. Lip Syncing to anything Britney was pretty standard as far as drag went, but it was rare that anyone managed to put _Lucky_ and _Work B**ch_ in a single medley and still make it a riveting performance. Of course, Bitty was disappointed when Kitty won the challenge between the two of them, but it was hard to begrudge her when she put on such a good show.

As much as Bitty wished he could say otherwise after Rita’s earlier comment, her performance deserved an honorable mention. She had, surprisingly, sang. Anita, who had been attached to Rita’s hip ever since they had all arrived, was openly crying by the end of the performance and had been the first to jump to her feet in applause. Eric wasn’t clueless, he knew that part of Rita’s edit was a comeback from a “tragic” past. But Rita’s appearance on the show felt less like publicity and more like raw emotion when she was on stage crooning with what seemed like real vulnerability.

Despite placing high, Bitty’s thoughts still wandered to Shelly Celly and Gina Grinder. They had graciously walked down the runway, away from the stage and away from any chance of winning the crown, after placing in the bottom two. Ru had meant what she said about the judges holding them to a higher standard this season and proved her point with a double elimination on the first episode. Bitty’s earlier speculation that he could make a few mistakes but still win the whole thing had felt easier when he had first walked through doors of the workroom, optimism high. But now, as he picked idly at his salad, watching his castmates eat and undress while they waited for the vans to arrive to take them back to their hotel, he felt unsure. Even though it was only their first week of filming and there was still wiggle room with so many of them left, Eric was still feeling less confident in his talents and himself.

* * *

**Notes:**

  1. Queens are almost always referred to by their drag names on the show and adopt she/her pronouns. That will largely be the case for this fic.
  2. Jack sang [_These Days_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_z_UEuEMAo)[ by Nico](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_z_UEuEMAo) 
  3. Bitty performed to [_Cherry Bomb_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WNxKpYOOYvM)[by The Runaways](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WNxKpYOOYvM)and his performance was partially inspired by Trinity’s tucking tutorial in All Stars 4
  4. Bangor, Maine is a [real place](http://www.bangormaine.gov/) and the inspiration behind Dex’s drag name
  5. “Kitty Girl” Purrson is a reference to RuPaul’s popular song [Kitty Girl ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F2I16jRLaqQ)
  6. Blanche Deverheaux is a reference to [Bitty’s ](http://checkpleasecomic.com/extras-blog/014)[_Golden Girls_](http://checkpleasecomic.com/extras-blog/014)[soulmate](http://checkpleasecomic.com/extras-blog/014), Blanche Devereaux 
  7. Nursey's drag name is a reference to [his love for editing and bibliographies ](http://checkpleasecomic.com/comic/03-17-01)
  8. Holster's name is a reference to [his passionate love for 30 Rock](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/90277421692)
  9. _"he was here because all it really took was one person (aka a casting agent) in a room of ninety-nine naysayers who believed in him"_ is a reference to [Lady Gaga's often repeated anecdote](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iRxsX_30tjs) about Bradley Cooper.
  10. A generous thank you to an anonymous tumblr user who helped me come up with drag names for Ollie and Wicks, both of which are hockey slang references (celly and grinder) 
  11. Thank you to[ omgchyeahplease](https://omgchyeahplease.tumblr.com/) on tumblr for reading the first chapter and being so encouraging 




	2. dearly beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz Lemoan nudged Coral’s arm, “Like a fucked up drag Christmas Carol.”  
> After glaring at Liz for messing up her mascara, Coral nodded, “Ghost of Death Future.”

****Eric’s hand shook as he tried to wing out his eyeliner. This wouldn’t do at all.

He started the day as an optimist. Heading into the next episode after placing reasonably high at the start of the competition wasn’t a bad way to be. At the very least he could capitalize on that momentum and end up comfortably safe at the end of filming over the next few days. But any rose-colored aspirations he had were shot to hell after the cast had been informed of the maxi challenge for the second episode. The theme for the challenge and the runway were the same, _Death Becomes Her_ , a different interpretation of the same theme from an earlier season. They were to write their own comedic eulogy and put on their best funeral glam. After, they would be put in a coffin and “buried alive”. To the viewers, the footage would be cut as if they were all buried at the same time and Ru was eulogizing them all at once when in actuality they were doing it individually and Ru had already pre-taped their eulogies. This didn’t make any difference to Bitty, the illusion of editing didn’t change the fact that he was going to have to be in a very small, very dark space, alone, leaving him very, very trapped.

After trying to finish sharpening his liquid liner and ending up with a squiggly lined failure for the third time, Bitty decided he would have to give it up as a bad job. Grabbing his kohl liner, he smudged out his makeup. To his left, Liz Lemoan and Coral Reef were chatting with Travesti Mamyshev-Monroe. Liz and Coral had been attached at the hip since they had all arrived, while Coral seemed to have taken a liking to Travesti. Bittle wasn’t _trying_ to eavesdrop, but Liz tended to include anyone in her vicinity in whatever conversation she was having as a consequence of the volume of her voice.

“I barely slept last night, I was up until 3 AM stoning these tights. I’m not even mad about it. Laying in the coffin is going to be a chance to nap in the middle of filming,” Liz was saying.

“Nothing to worry over besides maybe I’m not fit?” Travesti said, leaning back from the mirror to take assess her lip liner.

“I heard Dirty Dana isn’t doing too hot.”  Coral said conspiratorially, “Something about her sister being sick.”

Liz Lemoan nudged Coral’s arm, “Like a fucked up drag Christmas Carol.”

After glaring at Liz for messing up her mascara, Coral nodded, “Ghost of Death Future.”

Kitty Girl Purrson, who had been walking by, stopped cold. She met Coral’s eyes in the mirror, “Maybe focus on how orange you fucking look instead of putting yourself in other people’s business.”

The trio was speechless until Purrson walked away. “крыса,” Travesti scoffed. With the previous line of conversation shutdown, Travesti looked over at Bitty. “How you feel, little B? Ready?” The gossip had been a welcome distraction, but with attention back on Bitty, his own fears about the challenge were pushed to the forefront and he felt his anxiety skyrocket.

“Oh, you know me. I’m just fine. Just fine,” Eric replied thinly, standing up despite the shaking in his legs. “I actually, um. I have to go do something before we need to go on.”

He made a beeline for the door, running into Rita. Of course, she had to offer her own unrequested opinion. Bitty would expect nothing less from the queen who seemed to thrive off making him feel small. “We already had a time-call for five minutes.”

Eric couldn’t deal with this right now. Pushing past Rita, Eric tossed a, “Thank you. I’m aware,” over his shoulder.

* * *

 Once Eric was through the stage door and into the fresh air, he felt like he could breathe again. He leaned against the wall of the building behind him, looking out at the Sunset Las Palmas lot. Most of the activity was happening inside the building now, but the van that would take the eliminated queen back to the hotel early was parked and ready. If he couldn’t get a hold of himself, Bitty would be in that van by tonight.

Heavy metal stage door creaked as it opened, making Bitty jump. He calmed after realizing it was Larissa coming to check on him.

“Are you doing alright?”

Bitty shrugged, “It’s complicated.”

Larissa leaned against the wall next to him, their shoulders pressed together. It was comforting. “You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, right?”

Bitty let out a bitter laugh, “If I want $100,000 in prize money I have to do whatever the hell they tell me to do.”

“If you think you could win the lip sync you could risk the elimination. I’ve seen girls do it.”

Eric shook his head, “I don’t know enough about the other girls to say if I could take them or not.”

The pair was quiet for a moment, then Larissa cut in again, “Is that what it’s about then? The money?”

Eric hesitated, “A little bit. I mean. It would be nice not to worry about some tramp stealing my tips backstage, or be able to take a day off if I’m sick rather than forcing myself to do a show.” He glanced at Larissa, but she wasn’t looking at him. The neutral expression on her face would make anyone think she was disinterested, but Bitty could sense her genuine concern. She was just giving him space to talk.

He looked away, staring at the van again. “The other bit is just. I don’t know. Leveling up.”

Larissa smirked, “Like Ciara?”

Eric allowed a small smile, genuine this time. “I wish. But kinda. I’ve spent enough time as a pageant queen. It’s not that it isn’t real performing, it is. But I want to be…...established. Respected. If I win I’m not just some southern twink who’s kind of good at pageant drag. It’s like, like what I do is real. It means something.”

Larissa was looking at Bitty now, eyes soft. She opened her mouth to reply but they were interrupted by a producer opening the stage door to usher him inside. “Bittle. You’re on.”

Lardo placed a hand on Eric’s shoulder. “Is there anyone who can go ahead of him? He needs an extra minute, Chad.”

Visibly irritated, Chad shook his head, “Zimmermann already stepped in to go while we were trying to track Bittle down. Either he’s inside in the next two minutes, or he’s forfeiting the maxi challenge.”

Lardo waited until the producer had left to turn to Bitty. “You’ll be in there for no more than ten minutes. We’re not even burying you all the way. They’re going to lower you in the coffin, cover you partially in dirt, let you sit for no more than three minutes and then let you out.”

Bitty felt sick. “Larissa, honey. Telling me that I’ll sorta kinda be buried isn’t really helping the way I think you thought it would.”

Lardo sighed, “I know. And I know this is insane it’s just–”

“Show business,” Bitty finished her sentence with a weak smile. “I can’t forfeit. I can’t go home the second episode. There’s too much on the line.”

* * *

It was dark.

Not like at night when you could see glimpses of what was in front of you. Instead the darkness was all-consuming. It muffled both sight and sound. The sound of the crew moving around the coffin had been comforting at first, until it wasn’t. Until it felt too much like being in a small closet, people moving around outside, knowing you were there. But of course they knew you were there, they put you there. Pushed and shoved until–

“Deverheaux in coffin. Lift standby.”

That Bitty heard loud and clear. He was jostled as the coffin was lowered into the pre-dug hole.

A thud as he hit the bottom.

Several more thuds as dirt was tossed onto the lid.

Then silence.

Rationally, he knew he was fine. This entire scenario was contrived, the blinking green light of the night-vision camera recording his reaction inside the coffin proof of that.

Eric tried to take a deep breath and choked on it. Should he be breathing less? Did they think about how much oxygen he would need? Larissa had said no more than ten minutes. But what if something went wrong? What if the lift didn’t work?

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it all out. He should focus on something else. He could come up with a witty one-liner for when they opened the lid back up. The lid would be opened back up, wouldn’t it?

It was just as dark with his eyes shut as it was with them open. It was disorienting.

He couldn’t see.

He couldn’t breathe.

“I can’t breathe,” he choked, panic rising. “I can’t breathe! I need out! Get me out! I can’t breathe!”

He desperately tried to pound against the lid of the coffin, but there was so little room to maneuver he could only weakly smack. In the throes of panic, he didn’t notice the coffin being lifted. It was only when Larissa’s worried face appeared above him after she pulled off the lid that he realized he was out.

Mascara running from crying, he tripped trying to step out of the coffin. A hand caught him but it wasn’t Larissa, it was Travesti. “Come, little B,” she murmured, “Don’t want to have messy makeup on TV, hm? We go sit down, clean you up. You okay, you okay.”

Chad was less sympathetic that Larissa and Travesti, pushing them out of the way as crew members were directed to reset the set for the next shot. “Travesti, get Blanche out of here. Larissa, he doesn’t need a babysitter. Go get the next queen.”

Travesti looked angry but didn’t argue, helping Bitty stumble away from the set instead.  

* * *

Bitty had seen it coming, but it still hurt. When his name was announced alongside Dirty Dana’s for the bottom two some of his already fragile self-confidence fractured further. He had slept on couches when he was struggling to get gigs and had become accustomed to the ache in his back that came with bearing the weight of his parents disappointment, but standing at the end of the runway next to Dana was the most alone he had felt in a long time. Still, the show must go on and Bitty was not about to cry (again) on national television.

“My dears, the time has come for you to lip sync for your life,” Ru said with an arched brow. “But before that, I’d like to hear a little about why you’re here. Dirty Dana,” the cameras zoomed in, “What is motivating you to fight to become America’s next drag superstar?”

Dana let out a shaky sigh. “Uh, so. My name comes from my sister. Dana Troy. I was dancing for some clubs in Vegas, so I was around drag but my head wasn’t really there. After she got sick though I…” He took a deep breath, “I started...dressing up I guess? It cheered her up. We’d mess around. Kitty Girl and I worked together a lot, so she got me on stage. Dana loved it.” Dana paused, clearing her throat roughly before continuing, “My sister is my number one fan. Or, was.”

Stoicism be damned, this was awful. Bitty moved closer to Dana and took her hand. He felt a gentle squeeze in return.

“Before she died I promised her I would audition for the show. Do something fun, take a risk. I wanted to do it for her.”

Eric took a deep breath. It was his turn. He would keep it short and sweet, no oversharing. He opened his mouth.

“You know, my daddy. He tries. I can’t really– he doesn’t understand it. By my mama always says he tries. I talk to her more than I talk to him.” Wait, no. This wasn’t what he wanted to say at all. But not that he started he was finding it difficult to stop. “He wanted a football star, bless his heart, but instead he got a son who struts around in heels after dunking himself in glitter. But I’m on the path I’m on. I can’t change that now. I’ve worked real hard m’am and I just. I want to prove that it’s paying off. That I can make it.”

It was Bitty’s turn to receive a comforting squeeze from Dana’s hand, and he was grateful for it. “So that’s why I’m here,” Eric finished lamely.

“Thank you both for those personal confessions,” Ru said. “Now, good luck and don’t fuck it up.”

Bitty and Dana let go of each other’s hands and took their mark on the stage, the lights dropping dramatically before the music started. It’s only then that Bitty realizes, he’s going to win. Dana is going home.

**Notes:**

  1. __Death Becomes Her_ was [a notable runway challenge](http://www.logotv.com/video-playlists/0843bo/rupauls-drag-race-ruvealed-ruvealed-runways-season-7/ifbq99) from season 7. It is also a 90’s movie starring Meryl Streep._
  2. Tater’s drag name is a combination of a few different things. “Travesti” is the Russian term for drag. I liked the idea of Americans buying into the idea that his name was something exotic when in actuality it was just a literal translation. Mamyshev-Monro is the last name of a notable Russian drag performer, so I wanted a nod to her. I Americanized it by adding the “E” back in as a nod to Marilyn Monroe and Tater trying to market himself to American drag audiences.
  3. Kitty’s snipe at Coral is a reference to an iconic _Drag Race_ moment between [Alyssa Edwards and Coco Montrese](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cXx489yL6PE).
  4. “Like Ciara?” is a reference to Ciara’s song [_Level Up_ _._](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dh-ULbQmmF8)It’s a bop.
  5. We have a playlist! It'll be a compilation of fic relevant songs and I'll update it as the fic progresses. All the songs are listed in a chronological order to parallel the narrative. So far the songs on it are the songs from Jack and Bitty's performances last week and the song Wicks and Ollie would have lip-synced to prior to their elimination. You can listen to it [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/sydny_marie/playlist/3JnYilvaOPKRnvH6TuXpak?si=DZ525dsCTUeX1RapaxNzaw).




	3. making herstory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitty calls Rigga Morris, Bitty tries to go high when others are going low and another queen goes home.

They all trooped in after elimination, sans Dirty Dana.

Kitty was livid.

“It’s rigged. This whole fucking thing is rigged,” Kitty snapped, throwing her wig down onto her workstation table.

Liz sat down on the nearby couch to peel off her tights. “Come on. The producers can only orchestrate so much. It’s a coincidence.”

Sabrina glanced nervously at the camera eagerly filming and the crew members listening to their conversation, “Maybe we should talk about this later.”

Ignoring Sabrina altogether, choosing instead to focus on Liz, Kitty continued her tirade, “Are you shitting me? They had him lipsync to _The_ -fucking- _Cure_ . His sister just _died of cancer_ . The producers _knew_ Jeff would be in the bottom. That’s not a coincidence. They knew what was going to happen and they fucked him over.”

Bitty couldn’t disagree with that. He was still thinking about Dana trying to get through the lip sync even while she broke down in tears. “It was unfair. They shouldn’t have exploited his sister like that.”

Speaking up was a mistake as Kitty rounded on him immediately. “Oh, shut up. Like you give a shit. You’re just glad you get to stay.”

Eric couldn’t disagree that he was relieved he was staying on, but his happiness wasn’t at the expense of Dana’s personal pain. “I didn’t know him very well, but he was real sweet when we were in the bottom.”

Kitty rolled her eyes, ripping off her false lashes. “Oh, well if he was _nice_ then you definitely know him better than I do.”

“Chill out, Kent,” Rita cut in.

There had been a tension between them, Eric had noticed it ever since the beginning of filming. There was a way that the two simultaneously avoided each other but knew where the other was at any given point in the room. Now it seemed the mysterious tension was reaching its breaking point, or it would have if it hadn’t been for the arrival of the post-filming meal. They all drifted over to the craft table, but Eric didn’t miss the way Kitty narrowed her eyes at Rita before she looked away.

* * *

They had been split into two groups. Blanche, Anita, Coral, Liz and Kitty in one, the rest of the girls in the other. Not having Rita in his group was a relief, but he was admittedly nervous about having to work with Kitty. Her anger over Dirty Dana’s elimination had been simmering under the surface, and she had already made it clear she blamed Eric for Dana going home. The good thing was that even if their group ended up in the bottom, so long as Bitty performed well enough individually he would be safe. At the same time, Kitty had no real incentive to try and sabotage him. It was safer for their group to do well on the whole and than risk being the sole standout in a poorly performing group.

They had each been assigned a queer woman from history and were responsible for their own costumes. Bitty felt comfortable that he could look the part, so all that was left was learning the choreography for their lipsync.

Easier said than done.

Determined to not be the weakest in the group, Bitty did his best to step up for his turn with confidence. His choreography didn’t seem too complicated, it would mostly be his attitude that would sell it. Overall, it was doable. He was in the middle of focusing on nailing a quick turn when heard it.

“–just a little pathetic.”

Bitty stumbled but managed to catch himself. He glanced over at the corner where the rest of his group had been assembled to sit and watch as each queen took her turn. They had been encouraged to talk so long as they weren’t overly loud and interfered with the audio for the actual rehearsal. Background chatter provided footage for initial impressions among the contestants.

The choreographer took a step forward, “You good?” Bitty nodded and returned to his original mark, waiting to be counted in and doing his best to ignore the whispering.

“Not the worst…..it’s cute…...nice they let her come on the show.”

He wasn’t going to let this get into his head.

“Made a _pie_ for her talent….like what?”

“Blanche!” Eric jumped, looking over at the choreographer again. “You missed your count. Start again.”

There was snickering coming from the corner. Eric met Kitty’s smug gaze, her smirk unapologetic. “Don’t fuck it up,” she said sweetly.

* * *

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

Bitty looked up from where he was affixing a few sequins on his dress to look at Rita. “Yes?”

“Hm.”

There was an awkward pause, which gave Bitty the opportunity to wonder if Rita was really so confident in her upcoming performance in the challenge that she had the time to wander around passing judgment of other people’s work.

Rita gave the fabric of Bitty’s dress another appraising look. “Don’t you think there’s a fine line between pastiche and parody? If we cross it then we run the risk of mocking rather than celebrating these women.”

Bitty privately thought that there was a fine line between his foot being on the floor and his foot being up Rita’s ass.

“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t ask what you thought, isn’t it, darlin’?”

If Bitty wasn’t desperately trying to save face due to his painfully acute awareness of the camera eagerly zooming in on him, his own mouth probably would have dropped open like the fellow queens he could see in his periphery. Considering the intense scrutiny, however, he forced his face blank, bottom lip tucked under his teeth as he stared stubbornly at Rita. In the wake of Rita’s stunned silence, Bitty took a deep breath before turning to Travesti who was working alongside him, “Now. Honey, let me see that wig you were telling me about earlier. I caught a glimpse of it and I reckon it’s to die for.” Travesti looked over Bitty’s shoulder at Rita worriedly before before reaching for her foam mannequin. After a moment, Bitty sensed Rita walk away. Having the last word wasn’t as satisfying as he thought it would be.

* * *

One thing Eric was quickly learning about reality TV was how much of it wasn’t actually based in reality. Sure, their opinions tended to be their own, but there were plenty of times where the producers told them to talk about one thing or another. With the “Herstory” maxi challenge and a Club Kid runway theme, the producers had been pushing for them to have not-so-organic-but-pretend-it-is conversations about queer culture and history. Kitty, because she was promised more screen time Bitty imagined, had taken up the gauntlet.

“It’s just so fucked up that we’ve been, you know, oppressed for so long.”

Rita gave a grunt of agreement. She had been tetchy as ever since their performances were filmed the day prior. Eric wasn’t sure if she was sulking after Eric’s shut down her commentary on his costume or if it was just nerves over how her group had done. Out of the corner his eye, Bitty could see the cameraman grimace at the lack of effusive agreement on Rita’s part, but all things considered Bitty thought they should be glad Rita was even listening.

“Like, we’re only just now getting our rights? What the hell?”

Eric finally managed to get his lash to stick and chanced another glance at Rita. Perhaps Rita wasn’t put out after all. Instead, her contour had either gone awry or she was developing an irritated pulsing vein on her forehead.

“You’ve been really involved in LGBT activism, Kitty?” Anita asked, though she sounded like she already knew the answer.

Kitty paused, applying a deft swipe of liquid lip. “I do my part with donations, thanks.”

Anita rolled her eyes but stayed silent.

“ _Anyway_ . It’s just so crazy. People were out there _dying_ for us, _dying_ at Stonewall.”

Rita kept her eyes on her own reflection, but didn’t hesitate to interrupt immediately, “No one died at Stonewall.”

Everyone in the room froze.

Kitty’s hand stilled where it was touching up the edges of her his eyes narrowing, “No, they definitely did.”

“No, they didn’t.”

Sabrina met Eric’s eyes in the mirror, the pair of them trying and failing to suppress their delight. Bitty didn’t enjoy confrontation when it involved him, but it was hard not to derive the smallest bit of glee when Kitty was being the one shut down, especially after this week.

Rita, still applying setting powder, continued, “I have a history degree Kent. I think I know what I’m talking about.”

“Right, Jack. How could I forget? You went to fuck around at college after your drag career crashed and burned.”

Oh.

Not quite a shut down after all.

Where eyes had previously been eagerly taking the drama in, they were now studiously averted. Only the camera’s relentless attention remained.

“Think that’s enough, Kitty,” Travesti said quietly.

Kitty scoffed before throwing her makeup into her bag. “Whatever. I’m going to get dressed.”

Bitty watched her head to the other side of the room and shook his head. “She’s been fixin’ to fight all week,” he muttered to Sabrina on his right. “It’s really a miracle that she hasn’t already…oh, honey.”

Sabrina was looking in the mirror, near tears.

Bitty took note of the already occupied cameras before hurriedly grabbing a few tissues, dabbing at Sabrina’s eyes while trying not to smudge her makeup. “I already cried last week. You can’t go stealing my thunder,” Bitty chided, trying to add some levity. It was partially effective, Sabrina let out a watery laugh. Bitty pressed one of the tissues into Sabrina’s hand, “Now what’s got you all worked up?”

Sabrina twisted the tissue in her hands anxiously, “The performance didn’t go well at all.”

Bitty’s brow furrowed. Sabrina Splits had her moniker for a reason. He wouldn’t expect that a challenge involving choreography would be able to stump her. “I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think.”

“It was. I can do a backbend no problem, but this was actual dancing. That’s different. I thought I would be able to just run it until I had it down once we got back to the hotel the other  night but…” Sabrina glanced a few seats down where Emily Turabian and Juana Bangor were sitting, resolutely ignoring one another. Sabrina lowered her voice, “Emily, Juana and my room are all next to each other. It was nice at first, we could all go out on the balcony and talk after filming. But they fight constantly, they were bickering all night. I couldn’t focus on rehearsing, I barely slept. They’re driving me nuts. I was so tired when we did our performance. I messed up the choreography, I forgot the words. I’m going home.”

Bitty wrapped an arm around Sabrina’s shoulders, giving her a tight squeeze. “You can’t go thinking like that, you’ll be done before you even give yourself a fighting chance. If your runway is good enough it could offset the challenge.”

Sabrina looked skeptical. She was probably thinking the same thing Bitty was: runway was rarely valued the same way the maxi challenge was. “I guess we’ll see, huh?”

* * *

After the elimination, Bitty moved to change quickly, sliding his blue shorts on. It was as he was tugging his tank over his head that he felt something fall out of the chest pocket. Bending down to pick it up, he found a note hastily written on the back of a makeup face chart.

_Blanche,_

_If you’re reading this, I’ve gone home :( I’m so glad we got to get to know each other. Your performance for the talent show was one of my favorite, and not just because you let me sample it after. ;) You’re really talented, I know you’ll go far!! Thank you for all the pep talks. Tell Juana and Emily there’s no hard feelings, I should have known my stuff. But only later. Let them suffer a little bit. Text me when you get out (maybe you can make another pie????)!!!_

_Sabrina_

_(619)-259-7145_

_P.S. Please say thanks to Rita for me!!_

“Vans are here! You’ve got two minutes and we’re hauling out!” Larissa called.

Sniffling, Bitty shoved the note back into his chest pocket. He hastily grabbed his bag and walked towards the stage door. Not paying attention as he swiped at his eyes, he bumped into Rita. “Sorry,” Bitty mumbled halfheartedly.

Rita paused, “You alright?”

That was the million dollar question wasn’t it? Bitty had been safe this week, but it was coming on the tailend of what felt like criticism from all-sides and losing someone he had been beginning to call a friend.

“I’m fine. Sabrina says thanks,” Bitty said before moving past Rita and managing to slip into a van that was nearly full. The last thing he needed was to have to explain himself to someone who already had a spectacularly low opinion of him.

**Notes:**

  1. _The Cure_ is a song by Lady Gaga (it's a bop). It discusses unconditional love/being there for someone in pain ("If I can't find the cure, I'll I'll fix you with my love").
  2. The “Club Kids” were young people part of the hot nightclub scene in the late 80’s and 90’s. They were involved in a lot of visual and social experimentation that pushed back against societal convention. Here’s [an article](https://mic.com/articles/88587/the-stories-behind-these-striking-photos-show-club-kids-are-more-than-just-pretty-faces#.WAiDgGJ2p) interviewing various personalities about Club Kid culture and here is[ a cringey interview](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jhTpRKA_qvY) of some famous Club Kids (including Ru Paul) during the 90’s.
  3. Jack and Kent’s Stonewall conversation is based on [this famous moment](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EReT53pWXTc\)) between drag queens Derrick Barry and Willam.
  4. I spent a whole day meticulously assigning queer women of history to each character, only for it not to make the cut. For my own gratification, here are the assignments:



> Bitty: Tallulah Bankhead
> 
> Coral: Gladys Bentley
> 
> Liz: Ethel Collins Dunham
> 
> Kitty: Marlene Dietrich
> 
> Shitty: Cha-U-Kao
> 
> Jack: Eleanor Roosevelt
> 
> Chowder: Anna May Wong
> 
> Dex: Natalie Clifford Barney
> 
> Nursey: Alice Dunbar-Nelson
> 
> Tater: Alla Nazimova


	4. party city couture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cat certainly doesn't have Kent's tongue, dollar store (but make it fashion), and someone tries to make amends.

Some way, somehow, the responsibility of keeping Juana and Emily from murdering one another had fallen to Eric. Juana and Emily’s animosity towards one another had only increased since Sabrina’s departure. He felt a little like a mama cat herding kittens, except the kittens were feral. 

They had just finished filming their workroom entrances for the day and were all standing around while the crew adjusted the lighting so Ru could come in and brief them. An intern walked by, offering coffee. Bitty accepted one eagerly, “Thank you. Thank you so much.” 

Juana also took a coffee, but upon receiving hers, Emily studied the label. 

“Does this have soy?”

Juana’s fingers tightened around her paper cup, “Just take it.” 

“It was just a question. Chill.”

“Do you have a lactose issue?”

“Does it affect you?”

“I hate  _ so much  _ the things that you choose to be _.” _

_ And they’re off _ , Bitty lamented silently. He sipped at his coffee absently, looking around the room. Coral, Liz and Travesti were chatting amongst themselves. While there were some similarities to American and Russian drag, in many instances slang failed to translate. Coral and Liz had taken to giving Travesti mini-lessons on American drag culture; no doubt Travesti would be the newest subscriber to their  _ Drag Shit  _ YouTube series in order to further her education once they had access to computers again. 

Anita was talking animatedly to Kitty who was looking cooly disinterested. Even the most indifferent of dispositions failed to penetrate her persistently jovial attitude. Perhaps that’s why she and Rita got along so well. 

“Hey.”

Bitty looked to his left to find Rita standing awkwardly, similar paper cup in hand; the only difference being her cup had the tail end of a tea bag peeking out. Bitty flushed, still embarrassed about his small meltdown that had taken place the last time they had seen one another. “Too good for coffee?” He asked lamely, desperate for anything to give him the upper hand in what was likely to be a miserable conversation. It was baffling why Rita was even bothering to talk to him. 

“Uh, no. I don’t do well with caffeine. It makes me...jittery.” 

“Oh,” Bitty responded eloquently. 

“Listen, about last week–”

Rita was cut off by Chad, waving a clapperboard urgently. “Find your marks, queens!” 

Bitty wasn’t given time to dwell on what Rita had been about to say as Ru descended the stairs into the workroom. They nodded, oohed and ahhed in the right places so that the editors could piece together their reactions later. 

The mini challenge for the day, it turned out, was reading. It made Bitty wince. He could be shady when he wanted, but he wasn’t great on the spot. Ultimately though, it wouldn’t matter much who won the mini challenge. It wouldn’t affect their standing in the competition, they would just be missing out on a small prize. 

Rita went first, her reads were surprisingly light. Her humor was dry, leaving everyone silent following her delivery before getting a good laugh once the punchline registered. Anita was next, followed by Emily and Juana. The latter two were uncomfortable, going easy on everyone else and tearing each other apart. Kitty went next. 

“Blanche Deverheaux.” 

Bitty forced a smile.

“They always say there’s nothing like Southern Hospitality,”

A joke about being the from the South, not the most creative barb and definitely endurable.

“I don’t think they meant being so stupid you don’t know when to stop being nice.” 

That. That felt more like an insult than a read.

“Now, you told us you have daddy issues. Was your father’s day gift a few years back when you left home?” 

Eric gritted his teeth. 

“What was that nursery rhyme? Little Jack Horner? Or was it Little Jack is Horny, and when he stuck his thumb in the pie it was actually him sticking his thumb up your–” 

“I think that’s enough.” 

Everyone looked to Rita who seemed to be shaking with poorly suppressed anger. Chad rolled his eyes and shouted for the cameras to cut. “A reminder to stay  _ quiet _ ,” he looked pointedly at Rita, “until each person has finished taking their turn.”

Travesti ended up winning, her reads a perfect mix between self-awareness and good humor. There was such a thing, after all, as going overboard. 

* * *

“This is impossible. Just, fuck my drag. Honestly,” Liz complained for the tenth time as the thread became tangled in her sewing machine.

Bitty wanted to be encouraging, but at this point, anything beyond telling Liz to do her best would be lying. “Did you double check your threading before you started?”

“Yes _. _ ”

“And the thread is loaded at the bottom and the top?

“ _ Yes _ . The machine just hates me.”

“You’re just gonna have to try again, honey. I’m sorry.” It was a weak platitude, but it was the best Eric had to offer. 

Rita sighed, standing up from her work station where she had meticulously been folding sheets of newspaper. “Let me take a look at it.” 

“It’s a waste of time. It’s possessed,” Liz moaned, but she moved aside so that Rita could see what went wrong.

“Like ghosts, demons aren’t real,” Coral muttered as she squinted her left eye in an attempt to thread her own needle. 

“I’m  _ telling you _ that my toothbrush wasn’t where I left it. This is the third time!” 

“You realize we have housekeeping?” 

Bitty laughed, but his smile quickly became a frown as Emily and Juana’s arguments picked up again. 

They all had been tasked with creating a full ensemble out of inexpensive objects. Eric himself was currently trying to make a 1950s style petticoat out of coffee filters. He had thought that having a challenge where they had to work individually would help reduce the frequency of Emily and Juana’s arguments. Instead, it had only worked to fuel the fire. Juana had doubts about Emily’s hands-on skills (“Some of us can’t buy our dresses, we have to do things for ourselves”) while Emily’s responses didn’t tend to help things (“So you got your things from Party City?”). 

 

This new round of bickering was over who was going to use the caution tape as one of their materials, even though there was plenty on the roll for both of them. Enough was enough. “If y’all don’t stop with these hissy fits, I’m sewing you together. Then we’ll see how well you get along.” 

Rita, still trying to detangle the thread in Liz’s machine, let out an amused huff. Bitty turned on her. “Don’t think I can’t attach you too, mister,” he said, though it lacked the bitterness that had been present in their previous conversations. 

Rita gave Bitty a sharp salute, and though Bitty wouldn’t admit it unless the cameras caught it, the gesture elicited a small smile from him. He returned to constructing his dress, these coffee filters wouldn’t fluff themselves.

* * *

 

Liz was eliminated. 

They were stuffed in the vans, heading back to the hotel. Coral was slouched in the back, the hood of her sweatshirt up and arms folded. Bitty was pretty sure she was only pretending to sleep so she wouldn’t have to talk about it. 

Having to hand sew their costumes had proved too much a challenge for Liz and Kitty, the only difference between them being that the rest of the cast had been more inclined to try and help Liz. In the end it hadn’t mattered, Liz and Kitty had to lip sync; against a lip sync assassin like Kitty, Liz hadn’t stood a chance. 

Liz had a big voice and an even bigger personality so Bitty was sad to see her go, she had been fun to have in the workroom. But his disappointment was nothing compared to Coral’s. She had stood at the back of the stage in shock, helplessly watching at Liz said her goodbyes and disappeared backstage. Bitty saw Coral slip an envelope into the pocket of her hoodie, so at least she had something to remember Liz by until the competition ended. Still, besides Kitty and Dirty Dana, they were the only two who had entered the competition as friends. Losing that comfort couldn’t be easy. 

They pulled up at the hotel and filed out. The night air was cool, refreshing after spending all day tucked, padded and cinched inside the film stage. Bitty gave his face an extra wash and went through the rest of his nighttime routine, shower, facemask, and quick teeth brushing, before he decided that a little extra time outside would do him some good. He pulled a worn sweatshirt over his sleep shirt and stepped out onto the balcony to his hotel room. It was only when he heard a throat clear that he realized he wasn’t alone. 

“Rita!” 

Rita raised a hand by way of greeting. She looked about as tired as Bitty felt, stripped off her makeup and costume, her eyes a little red where she would have had to rub lingering mascara off. 

“I’m so sorry. I guess I’ve never really been out here at the same time as you,” Bitty blustered. “I usually just come back and crash I’m so darn exhausted. I didn’t even know you were next to me, I wouldn’t have even come out here if I did. But I just thought I should get some air before I went to bed. I can just head back in and leave you alone. Early to bed, you know.” 

“Hey, no,” Rita replied, trying to placate Bitty’s babbling. “It’s fine.” 

They stared at each other for a long moment.

Rita hesitated, before leaning against the railing of the balcony to her own room. “I actually wanted to talk to you. We didn’t get a chance to after the…”

“After the really fun mini challenge,” Bitty finished.

Rita smiled wryly, “Yeah.” 

Bitty nodded, opting to sit on the ground rather than stand. He leaned against the wall, stretching his legs out in front of him so he could face the open air. 

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about Sabrina.”

“We weren’t that close,” Bitty deflected.

Jack shook his head, “She was good people. It still sucks.”

“Yeah,” Bitty dropped his gaze to his hands in his lap, picking at the cuticle of his thumb. “She was nice.” 

Rita continued, but it felt more impromptu, “I wanted to apologize for Kent too. I mean, for Kitty.” Rita frowned, “He’s....complicated.”

Bitty stuck out his bottom lip, “He’s something alright.”

Rita laughed, “That’s a nice way to put it.” She took a deep breath, “I also want to apologize for how I treated you.” 

Bitty was quiet a moment. Then, “You’re doing a lot of apologizing tonight.”

“I’ve been messing up a lot.”

Bitty’s eyebrows raised, but when he turned to look at Rita her attention was focused elsewhere. He let her continue.

“I wasn’t sure about coming here. Shit. I was so nervous the first day I threw up.” 

“It’s hard.” 

“It’s not an excuse though. I just. I let the competition get the best of me. I felt bad about Sabrina going home, I was going to tell you that earlier this week. But after the mini challenge, well. I guess I saw Kent as a mirror for how I was treating you.”

“You weren’t that bad,” Bitty said quietly.

“I was an asshole.”

A smile crept on Bitty’s face, “Okay. Yeah. You were an asshole.” 

Rita shifted and this time when Bitty looked at her, she was looking back. “I’m sorry.” 

“Apology accepted, Rita.”

Jack waved a hand, “Call me Jack. Rita’s just for performing.”

“In that case, you better call me Eric. Or Bitty, that’s what friends call me.”

“Make me earn it, eh?”

“Alright, Jack.”

**Notes:**

  1. “I hate _so much_ the things that you choose to be _.”_ is a reference from “The Office”.
  2. "Reading" is basically cracking personalized jokes. Usually, they're all in good fun but sometimes things can go awry. It's [a popular challenge](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U96SRUTvmQo&t=1s) on every season. 
  3. “Fuck my drag.” is a reference to [a conflict between contestants](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3t47gV1LnlE) Kennedy and Milk on RPDR.
  4. Emily Turabian’s Party City remark is a reference to [a conflict between Sharon Needles and Phi Phi O’hara](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2D25oQNFzlo) on RPDR.
  5. More than one episode of _Drag Race_ is filmed per week, hence Jack’s comment about Chowder’s elimination happening earlier in the week.
  6. Thank you for all the lovely comments on the last chapter! I was feeling a bit self-conscious about my writing before posting, so it was all very encouraging! 




	5. my sister, my daughter, my sister and my daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makeover, makeover, makeover at lunch! (Also, a tentative friendship is struck)

This week was the challenge most queens dreaded: The makeover challenge. The drag deities seemed to be smiling, however, since this season’s makeover featured a twist.

“Normally we ask our queens to show a little sisterly love and makeover a drag novice into a queen with a sibling resemblance,” Ru said. The queens kept their attentive smiles fixed in place, but Bitty didn’t doubt that nightmare reels of trying to teach men to walk in heels were playing in their heads.  “This time, we’ll be pairing you up with one another. The only requirement is that you make over the other queen in a style that is distinctly your own.”

That was unexpected but potentially advantageous. There wouldn’t have to be an accelerated learning curve for the ins and outs of drag and they could go further with their looks. “The pairs will be as follows: Coral Reef and Travesti Mamyshev-Monroe, then Emily Turabian and Juana Bangor.” A glance at Juana showed her ears already going red. Eric was sympathetic, he was fairly confident he was already developing a headache.

Ru continued, “Anita Blunt and Kitty Girl Purrson,” Bitty breathed a sigh of relief, though that meant.... 

"And last but not least, Blanche Deverheaux and Rita Book.”

Bitty turned to look at Jack and found cautiously pleased surprised mirrored back at him. Before last week, Bitty would have dreaded working with him. But now it didn’t seem a death sentence of cruel and unusual torture. Maybe it could even be fun? There wasn’t a guarantee, drag queens were known to be fickle people. Bitty had worked with queens he became fast friends with and some who he wouldn’t be missing anytime soon, but can’t never could, so it was worth a try.

* * *

After much deliberation, Jack and Eric decided to use their shared love of vintage references as their inspiration. Even though a sibling resemblance wasn’t required, a shared theme would help ground the makeover in the space place even if their overall appearances were different. Bitty had shuffled through a folder he brought of various photos for potential inspiration and they settled on an iconic photo of Sophia Loren and Jayne Mansfield at a Beverly Hills soiree. Bitty had been anticipating more pushback from Jack. The majority of their interactions so far had been like drinking sweet tea before it had cooled: bitter and left him hotter than when he started. But so far, his optimism had proved correct; they were agreeing on most things and Bitty was even beginning to feel a little excited.

“So,” Eric said with satisfaction, “I’ll go with Mansfield and you can be Loren.”

“Well…”

“What’s on your mind?”

“The choice is a little obvious.”

“So it’ll be effective.”

“It’ll be safe.”

Bitty stared down at the photo, his thumb fidgeting with the cut edge. Both Loren and Mansfield were sexy, but the latter was more his type. She had an air of fun about her while Loren was more...seriously sensual. Jack would be able to pull off someone with a more elevated air.

“I’m just not sure I’m a good fit for Loren.”

“The judges want a _makeover._ There should be a dramatic difference. If you pick a typical choice, it won’t matter if your style is different. It’ll read the same. But if you go with someone out of character _and_ your hair and makeup is a different style? We could end up in the top.”

The idea of being winners of the challenge certainly was tempting. Bitty hadn’t placed in the top since they filmed the first episode. It had been good momentum, but as they entered the halfway point of the competition he needed something to keep the judges attention. Only winning once and getting to the finale was doable, but it didn’t promise a lot when it came to actually winning the competition. On the other hand, if Bitty stuck his neck and couldn’t pull it off he would be in the bottom for a second time, that was a death sentence. He could lip-sync his way out of it, but he would have to perform in the top for the rest of the season.

Could he really expect to be rewarded for breaking convention twice?

He wouldn’t be doing it alone this time though. He had Jack, or at least he thought he did.

“Well,” Bitty feigned a long-suffering sighed, “if you really think you can pull off being a blonde.”

Jack laughed and nudged him, “I heard they have more fun, and I could probably stand to lighten up a bit, eh?”

Bitty gave Jack a long look, “This is a risk, but I’m trusting you.”

“I’ve got your back.”

* * *

Emily sneezed and her hand jerked across Juana’s face; the lipstick she had been applying followed. Anita, who had been walking by the mirror, laughed, “I didn’t realize you were using Twombly as your inspiration.”

“What are you–” Juana began. She caught a look at herself in the mirror, lipstick now smeared across her face, and cursed. Grabbing at some makeup wipes, she furiously scrubbed at her cheeks.

“We just finished your foundation and contour!” Emily protested, trying to stop Juana’s efforts. Juana leaned out of Emily’s reach, still rubbing at her face. Vicious squabbling followed.

Anita stopped by Jack and nodded towards the bickering pair, “I would have thought that would be the two of you.”

Jack opened his mouth to answer, but Bitty, standing between Jack’s legs, swatted his thigh. “I am in the middle of lining your lips, so unless you’re interested in looking like like a Bratz doll gone wrong I suggest you let me do the talking. Rita and I are friends in progress. She’s behaving herself, so for now we’re getting on just fine.”

Jack gave Anita a thumbs up as a confirmation.

Anita’s eyebrows raised, had she not been wearing a wig cap they would have disappeared behind her fringe. “Well, shit. If that can happen, anything can. Maybe I’ll win.”

“How are you and your partner doing?”

“Being in the bottom last week didn’t help her attitude, I’ll say that much. The only reason I’m over here is because she’s tucking.”

“I see she got you to tame the mane.”

Anita typically styled her own hair, occasionally adding in extensions. She and Kitty had probably had an argument of their own over using a wig instead. “I’ve been forcefully reminded that I’m supposed to be styled by my partner, not myself,” Anita said with a long-suffering eyeroll. “But you can bet your ass we’re going au-natural from here on out.”

Kitty must have finished tucking, because there was a crash followed by a string of colorful curses. “How the hell do you get anything done with your work station like this?!”

“Coming darling!” Anita called and wandered off.

Bitty gave Jack’s lips a few swipes with a coral pink lipstick before stepping back to take in her work. “I think you’re good for now.”

Jack spun the chair around to take a look at himself in the mirror, “I kind of look like you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“My face looks...softer.”

“That’ll go with the padding. Jayne had some meat on her bones, so we’ll make sure we fill you out a little and then cinch you in the middle.”

His new appearance having passed inspection, Jack stood up, gesturing for Bitty to take a seat in the chair. “Your turn.”

The process was similar. Gluing down the brows, foundation and contour and moving onto the eyes. Bitty had done Jack’s eyes first since Jayne’s look was a little more natural. Despite the process being mostly the same, Bitty knew it was the more subtle flicks of the wrist and stylistic choices that would make the difference.

Jack gently took Bitty’s chin in hand, leaning in to carve out his eyebrows. Jack’s hands were soft. _He must use lotion_ , Bitty thought idly. He watched as Jack’s blue eyes flickered across Bitty’s face, tracking each stroke of the makeup brush. Jack really was striking. _Pretty as a peach in June when he’s in drag, and tall, dark, and handsome out of it_ Bitty’s Moomaw would say. Jack brushed Bitty’s cheek with his thumb, wiping away some fall out from the eyeshadow. Bitty’s eyelashes fluttered.

“Alright?” Jack asked.

“Fine. Just fine.”

* * *

Bitty had to admit, they both looked damn fine.

It was odd to see their coloring swap, Bitty sporting black hair cut close to his face and Jack with a blonde coiffure. Still, Jack really had done an exceptional job. His makeup style was more angular, sultrier. It wasn’t something Bitty had been confident he could handle, but once his lashes were stacked and his waist pulled in he felt himself step into a different form of feminine embodiment.

Jack was, frankly, gorgeous. His dress was a form-fitting slippery satin that stopped just above the ankle. With his height, the cut of the dress only extended the line of his body further. Bitty favored softer, glowy makeup, and on Jack, it looked radiant.

Jack blinked coquettishly at the judges during their runway, nailing flirtatious surprise every time his dangerously low neckline came close to revealing more than it should. Bitty alternated between arching an eyebrow sensuously and giving Jack judgemental looks that only  the son of a long line of Phillips women would be able to deliver. Despite the animosity that Bitty hammed up on stage, he was nothing short of delighted. He had come to the competition to elevate his career. Regardless of how he placed, the exposure alone would open up doors for him. But _this,_ taking a stylistic and performative risk and succeeding, this felt like not only an elevation of his career, but of his self.

They were rewarded for their work as they were the winning pair for the challenge. Coral and Travesti did well and were safe. Kitty and Anita did their best to overcome their creative differences, but their execution wasn’t as clean as Bitty and Jack. If it hadn’t been for Juana and Emily, they likely would have gone home. The pair had clashed on everything from hair to shoes and the result was two looks that had no sibling resemblance, but also no resemblance to the styles of the queens themselves. Emily ended up on the chopping block.

“It’s chill. Seriously, it’s no big deal,” she insisted as they all swarmed her to say goodbye. Bitty gave her a hug and stepped back, only for Juana to take his place. For a moment Bitty thought she was going to be snubbed, but instead, Emily wrapped her arms around Juana’s shoulders and squeezed her tight. “You’re a trip,” Emily muttered, her eyes wet.

“Shut up,” Juana replied.

Sometimes, Eric thought, affection crept up on you in unexpected places.

**Notes:**

  1. The chapter title is a fun play on a [not even slightly funny clip ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wnrdetFAo1o)from the 1974 movie  _Chinatown.[Drag "daughters"](https://www.fandom.com/articles/drag-race-what-does-it-mean-to-be-a-drag-mother)_ are the protege of more experienced drag queens (their "mothers"). In the case of the makeover challenge, usually queens are making over a drag novice into a queen with a "sibling resemblance". Consequently, they have both a drag daughter and a drag sibling (a daughter and a sister). 
  2. The photo Jack and Bitty used as inspiration can be found [here](https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2014/11/story-behind-infamous-sophia-loren-jayne-mansfield-photo), along with an interview with Sophia Loren about the story behind the photo. Mansfield is often mistaken for Marilyn Monroe in the photo. Also, unrelated, apparently Mansfield is Mariska Hargitay’s mom (you may know her from Law & Order SVU). 
  3.  For those of you reading [r/](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17768708/chapters/41926292)dragraceplease there is a new chapter up! It corresponds with chapter 3 of this fic. My original plan was to have a chapter of r/dragraceplease for each chapter of this fic, but instead, I think I’ll be adding chapters as appropriate. Regardless, I’ll add in a note that r/dragraceplease has updated whenever I’ve added a new chapter.
  4. [The playlist for this fic ](https://open.spotify.com/user/sydny_marie/playlist/3JnYilvaOPKRnvH6TuXpak?si=hH-nfvVqSaKYxVKHhM_0Jw)has been updated with songs up to chapter 5! The playlist will continue to be updated as this fic progresses. The songs are as follows (which songs correspond to which chapters is also in the playlist description:


  * Chapter 1: _Cherry Bomb_ (Bitty’s performance song), _These Days_ (Jack’s performance song), _Lucky_ and _Work B*tch_ (from Kent’s performance), and _The Beginning_ (lipsync number)
  * Chapter 2: _The Cure_ (lipsync number)
  * Chapter 3: _California Gurls_ (lipsync)
  * Chapter 4: _Money_ (lipsync)
  * Chapter 5: _(You Drive Me) Crazy_ (lipsync)



 

 


	6. and the answer is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A familiar face makes an appearance, the contestants attempt their hardest challenge yet, and one queen's future on the show hangs in the balance.

_ Note: This chapter features a feature of Drag Race called Snatch Game. It's an impersonation improv challenge. If you're unfamiliar with the challenge and want more context before reading, you can find a clip of Snatch Game [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0MsPbaxC_4). Enjoy! _

“Hello, everyone!” Ru said brightly. He was sporting a perfectly tailored plaid suit, cue cards at the ready in his hand. “It’s time for everyone’s favorite game show– Snatch Game! It’s very simple, ladies. I’ll ask a question, our celebrity guest will fill in the blank and then you will answer the question yourself and we’ll see if we have a match!” 

Bitty tightened his fingers around the Sharpie in his hand. Lord, was he ever nervous. He wondered if the nerves were creeping up on anyone else, but he didn’t dare look at the other queens sat next to and below him to check. Snatch Game was the most anticipated challenge by viewers and the most dreaded by competitors. Plenty of queens had entered the challenge confident and left eliminated from the show altogether. His performance would make or break his longevity on the show. There were fewer contestants every week and at this point their numbers had been cut in half leaving very little wiggle room to hide mistakes. When they had started, getting to the finale was a dream and goal he was hungry for; now, it was increasingly a realistic possibility. 

“Before we get started I’ll introduce our celebrity guest for this week’s show. She is a two-time Emmy winner, an Oscar nominee, and the woman I pretended to have a crush on when I was still acting like I was straight. Please welcome, Alicia Zimmermann!”

Out walked Alicia Zimmermann from just off stage, waving at all of the queens before sitting down in her designated seat. It was hard not to be a little star-struck by her. Even in middle-age she looked elegant, shiny hair cut in a blunt bob, sporting a chic pantsuit, and worryingly high stilettos. “I’m flattered, Ru.”

“Did you know, once I came out I had an _ insatiable _ crush on your husband.”

“We have that in common.” 

“It’s a shame your son couldn’t be here with us today.” 

“Absolutely. But it’s always nice to see my dear friend, Celine.” 

Ru turned around to face the contestants and everyone looked expectantly at Jack. He didn’t respond. 

“It seems,” Ru said slowly, “that she’s just as speechless as we all are to have you here.”

Alicia frowned, looking at Jack with concern. “It seems she is.”

“We’ll give her a moment to recover, I know I’m starstruck. Instead, we’ll start with Blanche Devereaux.”

Bitty forced his smile wider, fiddling with his necklace. Last week he took a risk and worked outside of his comfort zone. It had paid off. But years of watching  _ Drag Race  _ had taught him that Snatch Game was the time to do what you knew and do it well. Blanche Devereaux was the first person he ever impersonated and a character he loved so much she was his drag namesake. If the judges ended up resenting him for making an obvious choice, the worst they could do is mark him safe so long as he managed to perform marginally better than his competitors. 

**“** Hello, Blanche.”

“Hello, Ru. Don’t you like mighty handsome this afternoon.” 

“Well, thank you ma'am. But I’m afraid I’m gay.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, I’m happy to be here too.” 

Ru laughed. Bitty mentally gave himself a point. 

“Our first question is as follows: the Pit Crew have spent way too much time around drag queens. Now, before they slip on their Andrew Christian underwear, they…”

Alicia revealed her card, “Make sure it’s clean?”

Ru nodded, “A very practical answer. Let’s see what Blanche has to say.”

“Why, they thank me for a good time as any gentleman should.”

Ru laughed a second time and Bitty let himself breathe, “Unfortunately, that’s not a match. But thank you for taking such good care of our Pit Crew.” 

“Ru,” Bitty said slowly, narrowing his eyes and leaning forward conspiratorially, “I can say that it was abso- _ lutely  _ my pleasure.” 

“There really isn’t anything quite like southern hospitality. Now, we’ll check in with Oprah.” Ru turned to Coral Reef. “Every Christmas there are so many hot gifts, but this year all I want for Christmas is…….”

“A longtime life partner.” 

Ru feigned disappointment, “I’m sorry, but Alicia put ‘my two front teeth’. Could you tell us how you got your answer?”

“If you have a partner instead of a husband you get to have plenty of sex but you don’t have to pay them alimony.” 

“Does Stedman know about this?”

“Whenever he starts to catch on I do one of my giveaways if you know what I mean.” 

“I had wondered what was going to be on next year’s favorite things list! Now, we also have Wendy here. I’m sure she has plenty of recommendations herself. Before I ask our next questions, do you have any gift giving tips?” Ru looked expectantly at Juana Bangor who was dressed in a blue and white striped dress.

“Eat fresh?”

“Isn’t that the Subway slogan?” 

Juana went as red as her hair. 

“You seem a little confused, but maybe this will be a little easier to answer. Hungry Harriet was so hungry, when she got home she ate an entire…...”

Alicia offered a predictable answer, “She ate an entire horse, Ru.”

“She had quite an appetite! Let’s see what Wendy had to say.” 

Based on the grimace on her face, Juana was regretting her answer. She was expected to answer, however, so she reluctantly turned her card around. “She ate an entire four for $4 meal.”

Eric cringed. In comparison to him and Coral, Juana’s performance was weak. 

“Well,” Ru replied primly, looking distinctly unimpressed, “I’m sure it was delicious.” He turned to Travesti who was looking expensive in a coiffed gray wig and aubergine wrap dress. “Here is someone who wouldn’t be caught dead eating Subway or Wendy’s. Miranda Priestly, it is so great to see you.”

Travesti took on long look at Ru. “That’s all.”

“Darling, we haven’t started.”

Travesti let out a long-suffering sigh. 

Rather than appearing offended, Ru seemed amused. “Well then. I’ll just ask you one quick question before I leave you alone since you seem to be very busy.”

“Nice of you to notice,” Travesti replied airily. 

“ Sally the supermodel is so lactose intolerant, when the photographer says “cheese”, she…...!”

“I’m not interested in Gigi Hadid’s medical history. Let me know when you have real model.”

Ru grinned. “I did say Sally.”

“Not interested in her either.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re difficult to work with?”

“Marc Jacobs say I’m hard, but he’s not talking about my attitude.”

Finally, Ru laughed out loud and Eric silently cheered for Travesti. It was hard enough being funny on demand, let alone attempting comedy in your non-native language. Still, she had managed to muscle through.

“I think we’ll move onto the next contestant without an answer from Miranda. I don’t want to take up any more of her time.”

Travesti didn’t reply, already lazily flipping through a copy of Vogue. 

“Hello, Emilia….Fart is it?” Ru asked, now looking at Anita.

“The one. The only. The iconic,” Anita affirmed. 

Ru gestured to the plate of chicken nuggets Anita had sitting in front of her. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Not at all. I normally do this in my bathtub, but I figured I could use a change of scenery.” He picked up a nugget, holding it out to Ru. “Would you like some?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Let me just take a quick bite.”

“You know what? I think I’ll pass and just ask you a question instead. Lonely Louise was so lonely, all she wanted was……”

“To be loved and cherished, as all women should be.” 

“What a touching answer.”

“It’s hard being the next Sappho, but someone has to do it.”

“Alicia, could we get your answer? Something tells me we won’t have a match.”

Alicia laughed, “Unfortunately, I think you’re right Ru. I had that ‘she wanted a friend’.” 

“Two very sweet answers, but not a match I’m afraid.” Ru turned to Kitty. “Maybe we’ll have more luck with Regina George here.”

Kitty smiled sweetly, but as soon as Ru looked away she rolled her eyes. The bit earned a laugh from Alicia. Ru looked back at Kitty to see what the joke was, only to find her smiling again. 

“I get the strangest feeling I’m missing something, but I’m sure everything is fine. Regina, your question is: My cousin Cornita is a such a party animal, when mosquitoes bite her, they have to go…”

“Down to the clinic, but I didn’t tell you that. Also, she told everyone she got chicken pox last year, but it was actually Chlamydia from cheating on Brad with Chad. I also didn’t tell you that. ”

“My goodness. You know, we have a producer here named Chad. I don’t suppose they could be the same person?”

“It’s not, but he’s a sleaze too.”

Far be it from Bitty to  _ want  _ Kitty to do well, but considering Chad’s perpetual flippancy with the cast, it was hard not to be a little pleased with Kitty’s dig at him. 

“Alicia, a match?”

“I put ‘the hospital’, Ru. We struck out again.” 

“That’s such a shame. We might as well move to someone we haven’t heard from in a while then. Since she’s had a chance to warm-up, we’ll come back to Celine now.” Ru looked at Jack, expecting banter. 

Instead, once again, Jack was silent. Bitty looked at Jack’s hands. Bitty’s body had been rigid with tension due to his nerves, but Jack’s hands were shaking. He was smiling, but it didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, he looked manic. 

“Oh I get it,” Ru said, “You must be on vocal rest. I won’t ask you to overexert yourself, we’ll get straight the question.  When I grow up I want to be…Alicia, what did you put?”

“When I grow up I want to be Ru Paul,” Alicia offered. Where for the past few answers she had delivered her answer to Ru, here she had eyes for only Jack. By contrast, Jack was studiously avoiding her gaze. He also still hadn’t answered the question. 

“Celine?”

“Euh, nu nu nu, Ru,” Jack managed to get out. The accent was there, but his words were stilted.

“I beg your pardon?” 

“T-There’s a new order.” Jack stammered, “We let kids be whatever they want to be.”

“Alright then. I’m sure if I knew what you were talking about that would be very inspirational. ” 

Jack paled. He didn’t say a word for the rest of the challenge and while Alicia remained a consummate guest, laughing at all of Ru’s jokes and playing along with various comedic bits, Bitty didn’t miss her repeatedly looking over at Jack with worry. Eric couldn’t blame her, he felt the same. 

* * *

Bitty slowly slid the glass door open, stepping out onto the balcony of his hotel room. Hopefully, Jack was outside on his.

Jack was there, sitting in the rickety plastic chair the hotel had put out. His head was bowed and cradled in his hands, his elbows braced on his knees.

Jack was undeniably handsome. Bitty had already privately acknowledged Jack’s good looks. He was prepared and practiced to a fault, had a strong attention to detail and knew how to assert himself. All of this served to make Jack seem an impenetrable force of nature. Before they had reconciled, Bitty couldn’t help but be intimidated.

In this moment though, Bitty’s heart broke over how very, very fragile Jack looked. 

“Honey?”

Jack jerked, head snapping up.

“I was just going to head inside,” he said thickly, hands swiping at his eyes. “I’m not staying out here.”

“Honey.” 

Jack’s head fell back into his hands. 

“I fucked up.”

Bitty shushed him gently, “We all fuck up, Jack.”

“Not like this. Not– I wanted to be better this time.”

“Jack, you’ve done so well up until now. You weren’t the only one who missed the mark. You could end up being fine.” 

“You don’t understand.”

“Help me understand.” 

Jack sucked in a breath and let it out with a shudder. He was silent, but this was different than his speechlessness during Snatch game. This was him waiting, for the right moment, perhaps. 

“I used to play hockey.”

“You did?” Bitty shouldn’t be surprised, he knew what Jack’s dad did for a living. Like father like son. But after seeing Jack in drag day in and day out, it was hard to imagine. 

“When I was younger. But then I got to middle school. I dropped it in the eighth grade. It wasn’t– I couldn’t do it anymore. I didn’t fit.” 

Bitty thought about peewee football, dirty names spat his way and tackles that hit a little too hard. “I get that.”

“What my dad did didn’t work for me, so I thought. My mom was as happy as my dad was. Maybe if I did that instead. I modeled for a bit. There’s the practical part of that, photoshoots, fashion shows. But there’s a lot of networking. You go to product launches and parties in clubs. That’s how I met Kent. He was working an event in drag. We got on. He dressed me up for the first time.” 

It was hard to picture Kent younger, awkward and still learning how to match his foundation and tease out a wig. It was just as difficult to picture Jack looking less weary. 

“I had already let my dad down. I wasn’t successful at the same level my mom was. So I just kind of said fuck it. Who cares, right? If I can’t do anything right I might as well do what I want. It shouldn’t matter.”

Bitty thought about before he did drag for a living, before he went to his first gay club, and before he even could admit to himself that he was gay. He thought about his mama reading  _ People  _ out of on the porch with a glass of sweet tea. Unflattering photos of Jack in gay clubs splashed on the cover. Her disapproving tut,  _ I used to be so sweet on Bob Zimmermann, but look at his family now _ . 

“It shouldn’t matter, but it did,” Bitty said quietly. 

“Yeah,” Jack said. He sounded so tired, “Yeah, it did.” 

“It mattered to a lot of people. I never did well with criticism. I get– I have anxiety. So. I tried to deal with it. I had medicine, but I was drinking too. You know what it’s like. We’re in clubs all the time. It helped at first and I was okay.” He paused. “Until I wasn’t.” 

They breathed together for a moment, Jack was only lit by the light filtering through the glass from their hotel rooms.

“Kent called the ambulance. We fell out of touch after that.” 

It was a brief way to summarize what Bitty was sure was much deeper pain, but he kept himself from saying anything.

“I went to a small college. It was a hail mary. I really liked it there. I didn’t do much, just kept my head down and worked on my degree. It’s actually where I met Shitty.”

“Shitty?”

“Oh, uh. Anita.”

“You already knew each other?”

“Yeah. Shits got me back into drag. He wanted to try it and managed to persuade me to do it with him. It was a casual thing at first, we were just messing around. He started to get good though. He was planning to go to law school, but he decided to enter this first. A big fuck you to his dad and if he won he wouldn’t need his dad to pay for law school. He persuaded me to enter with him. I never thought they would call me.”

“You’re so talented, Jack. Of course they called you.”

Jack snorted, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Talented. Right.” 

“I’m serious.”

“This was supposed to be my chance to prove myself. To show everyone I’m not just….just some big joke. That what I do is serious and it matters. Now, I’m going home after humiliating myself in front of my mom. She’s going to watch me fail again and it’s going to be broadcast on TV.”

“I haven’t talked to my daddy in three years.”

Jack didn’t pull his hands away from his face, but he stilled. 

“It was football for me, not hockey. Then it was figure skating. It’s the perfect sport for a drag queen, you know. All those sequins. After that it was hockey, there’s less glitter in that; I was disappointed. But like you said, you get older and all of a sudden people decide you don’t fit anymore. I had a real bad day at school once, decided to skip the rest of the day. There was only one gay bar in town, I’m pretty sure the only reason they were allowed to stay open is because they did weekly line dancing.” 

Jack was looking at him now, “They let you into a bar?”

“I think because it was during the day and I was in such a state. Didn’t serve me a lick of alcohol, mind you. Gave me a Shirley Temple and told me if anyone started asking questions I would have to head home. There was a queen performing, I can’t even remember her name now, but I mean it when I tell you she was the most fabulous thing I ever saw. She was probably in a stretch dress and some granny pumps. I didn’t care. I didn’t play hooky from school again, but ‘practice’ wasn’t hockey anymore. I would go watch videos of queens performing on the computers at the library or go to my Moomaw’s–”

“Moomaw?”

“My grandma. She knew how to sew and she taught me. Never said a word to my parents. For a whole year I had my daddy believing I was still playing hockey. One day he got home before I did and found a package of wigs I had ordered on the front stoop. That was that.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, honey. I wasn’t nearly as slick as I thought I was. It was only a matter of time.” 

“Still.”

“No use crying over spilled milk. I just wanted you to know that you’re not the only one with something to prove. If I had a dollar for every time I fooled myself into believing that if I was successful enough that would change things…well. I wouldn’t need the prize money for this competition, let’s just say that.”

Bitty looked down at his bare feet, “I want him to love me so bad, Jack. I really do. My mama is better, we talk now and again. But it’s not how it used to be and there’s nothing I can do about it. Sometimes it feels a little silly, giving all that up to dress like a girl and dance around on stage, but what we do matters. It matters because we decided it does. I’m not saying I always believe that, but I learned a long time ago that I’m never going to be happy if I have to wait around for other people to tell me it’s okay to be who I am.” 

Jack stood from his chair, “If I could, I’d hug you right now. But–” he gestured at the space between their balconies. 

“I’ll take an IOU. Better yet, you go into filming tomorrow and you fight like hell. You show your mama you’re a star, that you matter and you know it.” 

“It’s a deal, Bitty.”

 

**Notes:**

Woof, what a chapter! I had a lot of dialogue cut out and ended up putting back in, so the chapter ended up 800 words longer than anticipated. Hopefully, it paid off! Not that many notes this week since most of the references were impersonation related. Instead, I attached links to video links to some of the characters below to help clarify any confusion about who was being impersonated. 

  1. Those of you familiar with Snatch Game may note that the format is slightly different. The joys of taking artistic liberties!
  2. The “nu nu nu” comment is a reference to Celine Dion’s new line of baby/children’s clothes, Celinenununu. The line is well-intentioned (“celinununu liberates children from the traditional roles of boy/girl, and enables younger people to grow on values of equality with the freedom to strengthen their own power of personality based on mutual respect”) but [the commercial](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vSdSFKj-hOc) for it is a little strange and features Celine breaking into a goth baby nursery.
  3. "Stedman" is Stedman Graham, [Oprah's longtime partner](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Kkmvy9Pv0k). They've been together for 20+ years. 
  4. The roles for Snatch Game were as follows:
    1. Bitty: [Blanche Devereaux](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ItSHd6-6r5M&t=69s) (from Golden Girls)
    2. Jack: Celine Dion 
    3. Ransom: Oprah
    4. Dex: Wendy (as in the fast food franchise)
    5. Tater: [Miranda Priestly](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-18agWc3cA&t=152s) (from The Devil Wears Prada)
    6. Shitty: [Emilia Fart](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtCXL2cMfFY)
    7. Kent: [Regina George](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_dCc-9pEPM&t=7s) (from Mean Girls)



**Author's Note:**

> I’m on tumblr @jackzimmermannn , come say hi!
> 
> This fic is largely finished and will update on Mondays.
> 
> Drag Names:  
> Bitty - Blanche Deverheaux  
> Jack - Rita Book  
> Shitty - Anita Blunt  
> Chowder - Sabrina Splits  
> Dex - Juana Bangor  
> Nursey - Emily Turabian  
> Kent - Kitty Girl Purrson  
> Ransom - Coral Reef  
> Holster - Liz Lemoan  
> Jeff "Swoops" Troy - Dirty Dana  
> Ollie O'Meara - Gina Grinder  
> Pacer Wicks - Shelly Celly


End file.
